There's a place way back in the woods behind my house where I go when the pressures of school, homework, and just everyday life get to me. I call it "My Spot." Very simple, but that's what it is, my spot. Nobody else in the world knows about it.

If you walk back far enough, past the pond, past the pine grove, past the granite rocks, you can get there. It is shaped like a big circle. The ground is covered with soft, plush moss, perfect for sitting, lying, and dreaming on. All around the circle are huge, white birch trees. Looking up from the center, they appear to be tall white soldiers guarding me from the outside world.

In the middle is a baby pine tree, about three feet tall. Through the years, I've watched it grow from a seedling, barely six inches tall. Under its prickly needles, I store a small box in which I keep some paper and pencils to use if I feel like writing or drawing. If I don't feel like doing anything, I just lie and relax, and be happy. I let my mind wander.

A family of wild rabbits lives nearby. Sometimes I bring an apple or carrot to cut up, and I place the small pieces around My Spot. I love to watch them come and eat them. I think that they are getting to know and trust me, because sometimes they come and eat out of my hand. Their brown fur is smooth and silken to the touch.

To me, my spot is the most beautiful place in the world, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. n